


Loss Of Absence

by Misanagi



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-30
Updated: 2006-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanagi/pseuds/Misanagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six snapshots of Quatre's childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loss Of Absence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 444 on [](http://community.livejournal.com/sdqb/profile)[**sdqb**](http://community.livejournal.com/sdqb/), for prompt # 7: Absence.
> 
> Thanks to Anne dor the beta.

**AC 183**

A small boy walked into a room he had never been in before. He took two hesitant steps and then tripped on the rug. Small fingers tried to grab something to stop his fall but he ended up throwing the papers stacked neatly on a low table. He landed on his hands and knees, papers flying all around him.

"Quatre!" His nanny looked upset. "Oh Lord! You know you can't come in here!" She started to pick the papers on the floor. The boy tried to help, and grabbed a couple, only managing to crumble them.

The nanny grabbed them angrily from his hand. "Out! Just go outside and wait for me there."

The boy obeyed dutifully. Nanny probably wouldn't let him eat dessert tonight.

 

 **AC 185**

"Elbows, Quatre." The governess gave his young charge a warning look.

The boy moved his elbows from the table and continued eating, looking very uncomfortable.

"Posture," the governess said a few minutes later.

With a small pout, the boy straightened and moved away from the back of the seat. His feet didn't even reach the floor, and the governess ordered him to stop dangling them as soon as she noticed what he was doing.

The boy stifled a yawn. "May I be excused?"

"Not until you finish your meal." There was no sympathy in the governess' voice.

Lowering his eyes, the boy brought the fork to his mouth again.

 

 **AC 187**

"Inside, Quatre. Now!"

The boy bit back a reply, climbed off his bicycle and walked into the classroom.

"Go clean up." The teacher looked displeased, and that usually meant extra lessons for the boy. "You are not presentable for your studies."

With a nod, the boy went to wash his hands, comb his hair and straighten his clothes. He returned and silently took his place in the only desk.

After giving the boy a stern look, the teacher began the lesson.

 

 **AC 191**

The alarm clock rang at six am, like every other day. The boy awoke slowly, feeling disoriented. He had fallen asleep on his desk. His computer was still on and the screen showed the paper he had spent half the night writing. He pushed the command to print it and took a quick shower. By the time he was dressed the paper was printed. He took it and went downstairs to the dining room to eat his breakfast.

He ate alone, finishing the toast, eggs and juice quickly before dashing towards the classroom. He waited by his desk until the teacher arrived and handed in his paper when asked for it.

"Considering the subject, I expected it to be longer, Quatre." The teacher was skimming the paper, a frown in his face.

"Not all the WEI mining records are public," the boy answered, simply.

"I'm sure they would be if you asked." The teacher threw the paper on Quatre's desk. "Rewrite it."

The boy didn't answer.

 

 **AC 193**

The boy stepped out of the shuttle. The concerned advisors – advisors because he was too old to have a nanny – who never left his side, were slightly behind, asking again if he was sure he could walk.

There was a limousine waiting for him, and the driver kindly informed the boy that the family doctor was waiting for him at the hospital. The boy smiled slightly, and sat in the back, listening to the advisors telling him again how recklessly he had acted and listing the many things that could have gone wrong.

The boy ignored them, and although the bullet wound on his shoulder hurt – oh did it hurt! – he couldn't help but smile.

 

 **AC 195**

Quatre tightened his hands against the controls, willing the shuttle to move faster. "Father! Escape!" he pleaded, desperately. "Run away!"

"Quatre, I am running away. I will not fight. There is no end to fighting. So I run. If that means running towards death, so be it."

The force of the explosion threw Quatre back. A hoarse scream tore from his throat.

His father was gone.


End file.
